


After the End

by HelloIhaveanaccounthere



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series, Shin Megami Tensei: Digital Devil Saga
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cannibalism, Expect rare updates, M/M, My God there's gonna be sooooo much of it, Post P5 but there weren't Personas, Tags will update as story continues, but you knew that already, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 02:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22148896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloIhaveanaccounthere/pseuds/HelloIhaveanaccounthere
Summary: Eight years after the original Phantom Thieves disbanded, Akira and Goro live and work as happy adults, celebrating their anniversary.Then the world ends, and it's eat or be eaten.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	After the End

Winter was fast approaching in Tokyo, only a month remained of autumn, but the cold winds had already begun to blow. The snow had already fallen, although it had melted just as fast as it came. Despite the cold, inside a small rustic apartment for two, it was near-boiling. The mixed heat from the radiator on full blast and the stove had created a hot box.

A raven-haired man was hard at work, making an old meal that has carried him well for the last eight years, coffee and curry. He was sweating from the heat, a small puddle forming on the tile from it dripping from his chin. He wore nothing but some loose pants, which were beginning to stick uncomfortably to his legs.

He had turned off the stove and was just making sure everything was perfect, before turning on the coffee equipment and getting to work, finding the appropriate beans for the blend, wetting the filter. A short while after work had begun, the door opened and closed with a loud bang, and a long sigh rang out through the apartment.

“Ah, you’re home, I was beginning to think work would keep you.” The man in the kitchen chuckled a little, wiping some sweat from his brow.

“Does it have to be so fucking hot?” The other man’s shoes clattered against the entryway, as he stepped into the apartment, which was cooler than it had been five minutes ago. He loosened his tie and slicked his honey brown hair back to cool his forehead down a little. “I can feel it from the lobby.”

“Not even gonna say hello?” The cook rested his elbows against the counter, keeping the coffee in his peripheral to make sure it’s perfect, “Do you even remember what day it is?” He pulled from the squeaky cupboards two mugs, labeled with names, “Akira Kurusu” and “Goro Akechi”.

“Of course I remember Akira… Work was just, stressful. Sorry I couldn’t have gotten it off.” The brunette moved his hair back into place, wine-colored eyes downcast in shame. Akira walked away from the kitchen, from tile to grazed carpet, and planted a soft kiss against the other man’s cheek, arms wrapping around him and resting against his waist.

“It’s nothing to worry about Honey, I’ve got dinner nearly done. Go change into more comfortable clothes, and I’ll have the table set, sound good?” He smiled as he said this, a warm light coming from his steel-colored eyes.

Goro smiled, “Sounds like a plan.” He returned the kiss and broke from the embrace. Soon enough the sounds from the shower reached the kitchen, and Akira made a contempt noise from his throat, as he poured the coffee into the mugs, slipping just a pinch of sugar into Goro’s.

Soon enough, Goro came out of the bathroom, a long-sleeved hoodie with the bottom cut off haphazardly and light grey sweatpants. “You need to do laundry, this was literally all I could find.” He crossed his arms, sending a small glare the other’s way. Akira kept staring at the showcased middle, the surprising definition of the abs got to him every time. “Or was this intentional?”

“Haha, you’ve caught me.” He put his hands up in a joking manner, “Am I going to jail now?” The smirk dancing against his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes said it all. Goro merely sighed, a smile still worming its way into his features.

“Maybe later, and I thought you said the table would be set.” Akira’s hands dropped and he quickly moved the mugs from the kitchen counter to the small table in the living room, next to two steaming plates of rice and curry. 

“Dinner is served.” Akira bowed down, flashing his hands towards the table, and crossing his legs. Goro rolled his eyes at the dramatics and walked over to the couch, sitting down in front of one of the plates. Akira sat down next to him and reached his hand out for Goro. The other man took it and held it tight, the fading scars stretching across his knuckles. 

After sending a quick prayer, they begin eating, hands locked together. “Sho, how wash work shtresshful?” Akira muttered through his curry. Turning his head to look at his boyfriend.

Goro swallowed and sighed, “Boss was being ornery. He got a bad phone call and it reflected onto us.” He tapped his spoon against the plate once before taking another portion. Akira rubbed his thumb against Goro’s hand in a calming motion.

Akira keeps gazing at Goro with a soft smile, “I didn’t even realize how long your hair had gotten.” The hair rested against his shoulders, the ends curling slightly, making it appear thicker than the hair around his face. “I always thought the long hair suited you better.”

“Ha, if you think so. Your hair seems shorter, did you get it cut for me?” A smirk stretches across his cheeks, an eyebrow raised, a free finger and thumb rested against his chin. Akira chuckled and took another bite. Goro reached over and ruffled the curls, earning a small scowl.

“Yeah, but not for you. I’ve grown a little tired of waking up with hair in my eyes.” Goro chuckled at the statement and kissed his cheek. Akira took a small sip of his coffee, “It’s still long enough for you to grab though.”

“Oh is it?” Goro gripped the hair and tugged a little, finding it just as easy as it had been before.

“Goro, the night’s still young, and what happened to patience huh?”

“Well, I’m surprised you’re bringing up patience.” Goro rested the back of his hand against his chin, grinning with a suggestive look, “You seemed so eager after giving me what’s basically a crop top to wear, and being shirtless yourself.”

“Always the observant one.” He took another sip, “I at least want to finish dinner, before it goes cold.” Goro huffed and went back to his meal, playfully kicking the other man’s leg. They continue eating, hands or feet finding themselves against the other person often, and simple laughter is shared throughout.

After the plates are cleaned the two lay down on the couch, Goro running his fingers through freshly cut curls, flicking any stray hairs onto the floor. Akira’s hands rested just above the cut in the hood, playing with a stray piece of fabric. Both of them stared into each other's eyes, in almost blissful silence.

Goro leaned down and kissed Akira, earning a small satisfied hum. They kissed again, and again, hands moving across each other’s bodies, the taste of coffee and curry blending together against each other’s tongues. They broke apart for breath, foreheads touching, teeth-baring smiles across the both of them.

“Eight years… I almost can’t believe it.” Goro whispered, “I thought we would’ve had a falling out by now.” Akira let out a soft chuckle and gave one more quick kiss, hands settling on the open skin.

“Don’t be so pessimistic Honey.” He scooted back to sit up a little, the curve of his back pressing uncomfortably against the arm of the couch, “Two years ago we would’ve been in bed an hour ago, y’know.” 

Goro huffed and got off the couch, “Maybe that won’t happen this year.” He sauntered off with a huff, making sure to walk with a sway to his hips.

“Gorooooo!” His boyfriend whined before scrambling off the couch. He ran to Goro and wrapping his arms tightly around him.

A loud thunderous crack shook the apartment, accompanied by a bright and blinding light. Both of the men tumbled to the floor, covering their ears in an attempt to block the loud ringing in them. When the light vanished, Goro was the first to take Akira’s hand and run.

The two of them entered the hallway, which was slowly filling up with occupants, all of them confused and scared. A loud, inhuman growling echoed throughout the city, Goro squeezed Akira’s hand as he leads him away, “Goro, what’s going on?”

“I’m not sure…” His eyes focused ahead, dark thoughts twisted their way behind them. They rushed down the stairs to the lobby, finding a few random people just as scared as them.

The entire complex was panicking, families running down the halls closely knit together, an older gentleman in the back was holding his chest in pain, seemingly from a heart attack. Akira ran side by side, hand in hand with Goro, breathing frantically. The voices were too loud for him.

When they reached the main lobby, it wasn’t too crowded, but the people inside were just as scared. “Does anyone know what’s going on?” A highschooler asked phone clutched close to her, legs shaking.

Nobody could provide an answer.

Goro and Akira were pushed forward by the other inhabitants of the complex, quickly filing into the lobby. The room was cramped, most of the tenants pressed far too close together. The two of them ended up being shoved to the chilling outside as a small crowd opened the door to rush in. There were crowds of people, all running in the same direction, screaming at the tops of their lungs as the sun hangs low in the sky.

Akira tries to shove against the apartment door, but it wouldn’t budge. The entire complex was pushed up against it, preventing the door from opening. Goro pulled him away and suddenly dropped to the ground, clutching his stomach as black veins spread across the skin. “Goro!” He tried to help his lover, but was immediately pulled away, “Let go of me!”

“You can’t help him!” The person pulling against him was a middle-aged lady, wearing the ugliest shade of purple and green, “He’s already one of them!”

“One of them? Lady what’s going on, he’s my-” She was somehow managing to pull him away, Akira couldn’t help but look back as he saw Goro laying there, hand reaching out to the people on the street, a hungry look in his eyes as the veins had spread to his face.

Akira felt tears well up in his eyes, “Whoever he was to you it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s a Demon now.” Was all she said before Akira began to pick up the pace, unable to get the view of Goro on the street out of his mind. The two kept running with the crowd, which was noticeably smaller than it had been when Akira was pulled into it. “They keep dropping like flies…” She placed a hand over her chest, her breathing heavier.

With a shriek she collapsed against the street, green veins blossoming from her ankle, “Run! RUN!” She screeched at Akira, who listened. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been running, all he knew was that he was exhausted. He dashed into a nearby alleyway and began to rest under a canopy. He sat down, chest and throat aching, his stomach doing flips after running so hard after a meal. He coughed for a brief moment, eyes stinging from the tears.

He had no idea if Goro was even alive, what happened to the random lady that tried to help him? His mind kept making horrid conclusions, that they were both dead, that Akira would be alone.  
He didn’t want to be alone. Not again. His sobs echoed too loudly in the alleyway growls and hisses called back to him. He didn’t even see the small glimmer of light turn the corner of the alley, not until a sudden pain erupted from his chest, far worse than the pain of exhaustion.

He clutched and clawed at it, saliva dripping from his lips as screams melded with the sounds on the streets. He looked down in fear as red veins creeped out from his chest, right over where his heart would be. He slid to the floor, screeching, scratching at nothing, only one word echoing in his mind. 

Eat.

Eat, eat, eat, eat, eat.

EAT, EAT EAT EAT!

EAT THEM ALL!

\---------------------------------------------------------------

He awoke to the sound of thunder, shaking and rattling the walls around him. Akira jumped and propped himself up with his hands, shaking and breathing harshly. Slowly he calmed down, twisting till he rested on his rear, gazing upwards. The ceiling was seemingly constructed with sheet metal, nails, and a hammer. There was a severe chill in the air, causing him to shiver and wrap his arms around himself.

“W-where am I?” He asked no one. He rubbed his eyes and blinked the dreariness away, only to see his hands soaked in rust-colored blood. He panicked, eyes darting around the room, finding a long, black, and bony hand laying palm up in a pool of dried blood in the flickering lights. He backed away, “No… no no no no no no.” His breathing became quick and rampant, his neck felt constricted, his eyes couldn’t focus anymore.

‘Did I kill him?’ he thought to himself. He could taste a faint metallic flavor on his tongue, and the blood caked into his fingernails was proof enough. ‘I did.’ Thunder echoed again, louder this time, the building actually clinked together at the noise. Akira froze at the sound and saw the bigger picture once the light died out and his eyes immediately grew accustomed to the darkness.

A golden body, claw marks along the chest and a large sunken depth where the stomach and organs should’ve been. Where a head should’ve been, there was a giant picture frame, with three-dimensional teeth hung wide open, a large tongue sprawled onto the floor.

At the sight of such a thing, Akira felt his stomach lurch into his throat. He covered his mouth, as tears welled in his eyes, but the thick feeling in his throat pushed upwards. He turned away and spilled his guts onto the floor, the bile stinging his throat, nose, and eyes. The vomit was tinted pink, and there were still chunks of pink and purple meat in it.

“Oh God no…” Akira realized the worst, that he ate whatever was dead on the floor. He ran out of the room and into a long hall that sharply turned right. He saw a few more doors, opened, except for the one that likely led to the outside. He felt the urge to puke again but swallowed it down and stumbled through the hall until he saw what looked to be a very poorly made restroom.

He looked into the mirror, cracked in one corner, with an empty spot showing the rusted metal behind it. He saw the blood caked around his mouth, puke giving his lips a faint shine, blood flaked around his eyes, and hair matted onto one side. He shuddered at his reflection but noticed a mark on his chest, right over where his heart should be. The mark resembled a top hat, but with teeth, split open in a laugh, or perhaps ready to dig into something… 

He remembered the explosion, him and Goro running out of their home, Goro down on the street, hand reaching towards the street, black veins crawling all across his skin, red ones on his own. He began to cry and fell backward as his legs became too weak to hold himself up.

Akira, kept sobbing, shivering at the chill creeping into his bones. It seemed much colder than usual, how long had it been since the day the world came crumbling down?

Akira wrapped his hands into fists and set out to find some clothes. He placed a hand against the metal, propping himself up until he felt he could walk on his own. He wandered into a small room, paint and an empty canvas lined a wall with a giant window, with only another building visible through it. There was a faint white light. “At least one night… S-s-shit… Clothes, a sh-shirt-t-t.” He checked the entire room for clothes, finding a giant bookshelf next to a small dresser.

He opened the top drawer and struck gold with a few folded shirts and jackets. He grabbed them all and threw them on. First the blue and metallic shirt, then the purple button up, then the white one, and then the light gre\ay hoodie. He zipped up the hoodie and felt instantly better. He sighed in relief and began looking for some socks, his toes were feeling the worst of the chill. He found a lot of black wool socks, and that worked perfectly for him. Akira slipped on three pairs and exited the room, wincing at the creaking of the cold floorboards as he stepped on them.

He gazed towards what he believed to be the front door and flipped the hood up. He walked over and cautiously pressed his ear up to the door, hearing more thunder and nothing more. He opened the door slowly, gazing out into a pale street, bones, and blood littered everywhere.

Akira swallowed back his puke again, and slowly crawled out. There was a faint wind, and he could see dark clouds approaching from his left. He turned right and stayed as close to the wall as he could, grasping the hood to keep it in place. He could see his shaky breath faintly as he exhaled. He just kept walking, not finding a single living thing for a few blocks.

He came to a small intersection and hid behind the building at the corner. He peeked around the edge and found a dog looking thing. It was long and gray, and its feet definitely weren’t paws, and it had a large jaw hanging open. It was floating over in his direction, nose high in the air. Akira placed a hand over his mouth and slowly slipped back towards the alley he passed, hoping to hide from… Whatever that was.

The darkness provided a good cover, but the strange long dog came into view, and paused by it, gazing right into Akira’s eyes. “Ah… An easy catch!” Its jaw shot open farther and lunged forward. Akira grabbed a nearby garbage bag and swung upwards, knocking the beast back a small distance and up quite a ways. The bag popped and a few empty cans of food spilled onto the floor.

He ran, dropping the burst bag as he dashed. He made a few turns, hoping to lose the dog… No, he remembered it was a Demon. He felt a small pressure against his chest and an urge entered his mind, the urge to fight, to kill, but he fought against it, he wouldn’t be like them. “Some excitement!” The Demon called from behind. Akira cursed to himself, he dared look behind him and saw the Demon barely a meter away, tongue flapping in the wind as it approached.

Akira swung his head forward, slammed against a brick wall, and fell, the Demon following right behind him, comically swirling down to the ground after crashing into the wall. Akira held a hand to his bleeding nose as he turned around and made one last turn into another dead end, a chain-link fence.

“Now you’re mine!” Akira began to climb the fence in a desperate attempt to escape his death. He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder. He screamed as he fell off the fence, the Demon yelping as it was crushed beneath Akira and the cement below.

The Demon squirmed out from under Akira and growled, “I hope you’re worth all this trouble!” Its jaw opening unnaturally wide before pausing, its nose pointed to the sky as it closed as much as possible

Akira stared up at what the Demon had stopped to look at and saw another Demon on the roof above them. The thunder clapped once more as the rain started to drizzle down. The initial Demon lunged for the other Demon, light blue energy shooting through its fur and through to its mouth. Akira didn’t waste the opportunity to run away. The energy coalesced into a sparking ball but was quickly snuffed out.

The other Demon had the wolf-like one in its claws as it leaped down, raising its right hand to latch onto the building as the wolf Demon was being strangled. Akira hid behind the corner, gripping his ripped open shoulder, staring in awe and shock. 

The newer Demon was covered in black and white stripes, harsh and jagged, it wasn’t clear which color dominated. Its joints were sharp, its feet hooves with claws, thighs pointed to the sky, a thin stomach held up by them. The torso was similar to a humans but very broad and sharp, its hand black with scarlet fingertips and claws, a large smoking claw hooking into the bricks was visible, but its origin was unclear. Emerging from the back of its head were three thick black braids, waving in a nonexistent wind, the ends tipped with red blades. Two horns could be seen curling over the top of its head, turned towards the wolf Demon, who was pleading for mercy.

In one quick motion of the Demon’s arm, a loud crack mixed with the sound of a splat, the pleading ceased. “Pathetic.” Akira jumped, and could finally feel his legs again. He quietly slipped away, back the way he came, hoping to escape the strange new Demon or any Demon at all for that matter. The rain continued to pour, washing away the blood from his clothes and skin.

He came across the intersection again as the sky turned a solemn yellow. He paused for breath in between a dumpster and a trash can, eyes trained on the broken bag from earlier. He felt eyes on him and looked around. Above he saw nothing but the dark gray, yellowish clouds, and the rooftops of the smaller buildings.

He tried his best to shrink into himself, hoping the feeling would just go away. After a while, Akira snuck away from his spot, quickly but quietly. He felt those eyes trained on him stay as he gazed to the crossing streets. He launched himself away from his position, and made a dash away from the alley, keeping his eyes open, searching for any place to hide.

The asphalt hit his chest so fast it winded him. He struggled to find his breath again as the weight kept him in place. “You neglect your true self huh? Don’t you know the rules of the new world weakling?” The voice sounded familiar, with an echo and growl behind it. “It’s eat or be eaten, so why do you stay in that form?”

Akira felt that pressure return to him, a small voice in his mind telling him to change and fight, but again he repressed it. He heaved as he turned his head. He recognized the horns instantly. The face of this Demon looked glassy and was dark ebony, it had no eyes, it was actually the horns in their place. The teeth hung slightly ajar, the color of blood. He could feel the hot breath against the back of his neck and shivered, “You interest me. Let’s make some fun out of this shall we?” The Demon rose, Akira coughed and began to stand on shaking knees, the wound in his shoulder stinging.

“There is a house not too far from here. It’s empty and makes for an excellent hiding spot. There should be something you can use in there, bring whatever you find, and see if you can kill me in that sorry state.” Akira just stared at the Demon, listening to his cold sadistic words, accepting his fate. He was going to die. His eyes followed the where Demon’s blood soaked finger and trained his gaze on a small blue house. He walked off to the house, feeling the Demon’s gaze on him.

On the outside, the home was normal, aside from the door was half broken from its hinges, and there was blood on the left window. Akira turned his head, noticing the slightly busted car as he gazed at the Demon, his executioner. The Demon hadn’t moved, its tongue ran across its teeth, a finger and thumb resting against its chin. Akira thought he recognized the stance but shook those thoughts away. His killer was merely a Demon that was smarter than the others, that understood how to survive and be better than the rest.

He sighed and entered. The house was vacant, save for the half-eaten corpse on the floor, a torso, the legs nothing but blood and bones. Akira noticed the pistol near the body and picked it up, after close examination, noticed it was missing one bullet. He stored it in the pocket of his hood, walking to the kitchen. 

There was a pot of something long forgotten on the stove, and two plates next to it. He rummaged through the drawers and found a simple kitchen knife, duller than most knives, but sharp enough to do some damage. He flipped it in his hands a little, enjoying the feeling.

It reminded him of high school. When he and his friends would force corrupt people to confess to their crimes, he always had a knife tucked away on him, he had managed to learn some tricks and show off. Of course, years of no practice meant no over the top tricks, but he could probably stab the Demon if he needed to.

He searched everywhere around the house and found nothing else that could kill a normal person, let alone a Demon. He slipped outside and walked out into the street. The sky had turned a dark magenta, the sun was setting behind the storm. The Demon was there, a low hiss exiting from its mouth. It had its right arm in front of its chest, the steaming claws from earlier unsheathed, just standing there, head tilted, the braids flowing around it.

The pressure inside his chest worsened with every beat of his heart, but Akira pushed it back down, flipping the knife in his hand as he took a fighting stance. “Interesting choice.” The Demon mumbled, staying still. The two of them ended up staring each other down, the Demon barely even breathing it seemed, and Akira heaving with both his wound, his likely broken nose, and the urge to kill weighing him down.

He made the first move, dashing down the street, hoping the Demon would strike at him before he made a move. He readied his blade to swing, and secretly grasped the gun secretly. When the Demon twisted its body away from the knife, Akira fired, striking the Demon in its leg. There was a small stream of blood getting washed away quickly in the rain. Its stance faltered as it began to favor its other leg.

The demon chuckled, “So you have some tricks to play. Mind if I reveal the card under my sleeve?” The demon growled as the blades on its hands glowed a sinister red. The Demon moved quickly as he sliced right through to Akira’s flesh, a straight line from his right shoulder to his left hip.

He stumbled backward, dropping the pistol with a clatter, blood spurted from his lips as he felt… Something worming its way through him. He looked upon the demon, which had retaken its stance, and felt pure, unbridled, RAGE.

He dropped the knife, ignoring all other thoughts. The pressure in his chest exploded in red as the light shimmered around him, revealing a demon in his place. What appeared to be a top hat rested on his head, and large wings spread out from behind him. His face looked like a black mask, the edges curling into antler-like horns, and red teeth hung open. His arms and legs were wrapped in scarlet, everything else the color of onyx. He had a thin build, perfect for speed.

The black and white demon held its position, realizing just what it was fighting, realizing it made a mistake in turning its opponent Berserk.

The Slayer of Azazel.

The winged demon lunged forward with a deep roar, claws extended, the other dodged but felt something grab at its braids, “Let g-” It was interrupted by a spit filled scream. Suddenly it was yanked back, one of its horns being grasped by long black fingers. It suddenly felt its head collide with a house, the drywall cracking. It snarled a little as what was Akira heaved, steam seemed to expel from his mouth.

The demon quickly regained its balance and blocked the other’s claws. His claws pulled away as he raised his leg. Suddenly, a blade rose from the heel but was quickly blocked, the blade looked very intricate, with small hooks on both ends. The demon’s blade was caught in the knife-like weapon, and before it could call it back, the red demon swung upwards with his leg, knocking the other backward, before quickly slicing downwards, slicing through its face.

It recalled its blades, the claws sliding into its palms as it took the opportunity to lunge towards its enraged opponent, hands clutching at his neck as they toppled down. The winged demon gargled, the steam mixing with foam, using his claws scratched his attacker’s forearms, peeling the skin away like it was paper. The demon bit back a scream, slamming its forehead into the other’s, causing him to stop for a moment.

As it was about to shoot its claws into his throat, it felt a harsh and quick punch right to its stomach. The grasp on the red demon’s throat loosened enough for him to get the upper hand. The positions were swapped, with him on top, his foot knife embedded into the other’s left shoulder. The hooved demon was swallowing the quickly rising bile and readied the blade in its left palm.

Its horns were grasped tightly and pulled up from the street, all it would take is one quick strike down and the winged demon’s challenger would be dead. Yet all he did was breathe heavily, the steam rising from his jaw vanished, and the foam stopped forming, the remains dripping from his chin.

Akira came to at that moment, gazing upon the bloody face of the demon he once feared. He saw hands that were his yet not wrapped tight around its horns, ready to shoot forward and kill. The sky had gone black, the rain still falling, blocking out the moon.

In that moment of hesitation, a sharp pain stabbed itself into his right shoulder, and he screamed in agony, dropping his attacker and rolling away, finally feeling the weight of the wings on his back. The demon lay there, turned on its side to face Akira, keeping itself upright on its left hand alone. Akira didn’t move, he tried to sob, but no tears would come. He could see, yet he had no eyes.

He slowly stood up, pushing his feelings back so he could maybe run away. The demon kept breathing, its whole body moving with every intake of air, Akira could tell it was watching him with curiosity. “So the Rage wore off… You’re a pain to deal with when you’re mad.” It coughed a little, Akira moved his right wing in front of him, thinking of being anywhere but there at that moment.

The demon chuckled, “I merely gave you the intent to kill, and you surely would’ve… Which brings up a very good question.” Akira recognized the way this demon spoke. He shook his head, the thought in his mind couldn’t be true.

Goro wasn’t a murderous monster. Right?

“You can’t kill me, but you’ve slain countless demons and ate only their organs, torn through little groups forming and killing Azazel most famously.” The demon slowly pushed itself up, and tried to stand on weak legs. “Why is that?”

Akira refused to speak… He didn’t know the answer to that either. “You must’ve been a remnant from the Starvation Period. When everyone was mindless, and only thought of killing to consume.

‘In this world it is eat or be eaten.” In a surprisingly swift motion, the demon stabbed through Akira’s wing, earning a cry of pain. As the wing fell, the demon held Akira by the throat once more, with an iron grip. “It seems Azazel was weak… But so are you.” 

“I-I…” Akira gripped at the hand at his neck, trying to pull the fingers away, “I’m s-s-sorry… Sojiro… Futaba…” The demon faltered slightly but kept fighting Akira’s resistance. “I’m s-sor-orry… I ca-can’t say goodbye… Goro…”

The demon dropped Akira the moment he whimpered the last remark. The winged demon wheezed, and clutched at his own throat, curling into himself and using his wings as a shield again. “G-Goro? Where do you know that name?”

Akira poked his head out from his makeshift defense, “Why do you care?” The demon seemed to realize something and took a step back, the braids stopped flowing. The world seemed to falter and shimmer around the demon before its form disappeared.

In its place was a man, long honey brown hair tied loosely in a ponytail, wine-colored eyes widened in an emotion that’s hard to place. There was a large cut going down his face, a few bruises too. Blood seeped through the sleeves of a white dress shirt and down the left side of it. The black slacks we wore were a little wet and wrapped in two belts on each leg. Akira recognized him immediately. “Goro...” He whispered, he reached out, a clawed hand barely touched his nose when Goro moved it to his cheek.

Akira’s form faltered, the demonic features vanished, leaving a human body behind. Tears finally fell from his eyes and down his cheeks. “Goro?” The man took Akira’s hood and pulled it down, and let his hand rest against his neck. “Oh my God… You’re alive.” 

Goro smiled and began to cry as well, “I should be saying that to you… I thought for sure you were… That you wouldn’t ha-” He was silenced by a kiss, and gladly returned it. They breathed together in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company again.

“I’d love to stay like this but… It’s too dangerous Akira. The house would be a good place to stay for the night.” The raven-haired man nodded, wiping his tears away as Goro helped him stand up. The two held hands as they walked to the small home under a void like sky.

When they entered, Goro gripped at his shoulder and Akira helped him keep standing. “In… The kitchen, the pot cupboard has a secret compartment. There’s a bag in there, take it and there should be a vial of brown powder and a towel in the small compartment.” Akira nodded, helping Goro over to a small couch before heading to the kitchen, reaching for the knob and wincing at the pain in his shoulders. His left one was just sore, but his right seared and he could feel thick wetness in his clothes. 

“I’ll get you afterward okay?” Akira nodded and rummaged through the cupboard for that compartment, biting his lip to hide the pain. He found the secret door and fetched a black backpack. He rushed over and searched for what his injured boyfriend described.

“Just dump some of the powder into the towel and dab my wounds with it.” Akira set the stuff down and removed the clothes in his way. He quickly followed the instructions. He was amazed to find the wounds healing before his eyes, the scratches he made disappearing, not even leaving a scar behind. He moved the towel up to get the cut on his face before Goro stopped him, “That one will be fine. A single cut will heal better than stab wounds or getting filleted like a fish.” He joked, chuckling to lighten the mood. “Besides you need this too.”

Akira nodded and gave the supplies to Goro, looking over his boyfriend’s body, the most startling difference was a black marking on his stomach. It looked like a sword made with teeth instead of metal. There was a nasty bruise there too, Akira looked away from it and his lover. Focusing on the legs of a dead man, whose pistol proved useful.

“I’m sorry…” He mumbled as Goro began slowly removing all the layers of tops.

“It’s not your fault Akira. I shouldn’t have made you Berserk... That was my mistake.” When Goro pressed the towel into the stab wound on his shoulder, Akira felt as though a comforting warmth wrapped around his whole body. He sighed in relief at the feeling and looked back to Goro, noticing the slice in his face was already healing a little.

Goro set the towel down on the coffee table when Akira placed a hand against Goro’s thigh, and looked into his eyes with worry and guilt. Goro reached his left hand up to Akira’s face, “It’s okay, you shouldn’t worry about that anymore. You patched me up remember?” Goro sat up some more, Akira blinked a little, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and earned a small peck on the nose.

“I suppose not.” He shivered, and Goro took his hand. They walked up the stairs to the bedroom, taking their supplies with them. Akira immediately jumped into the bed, curling under the thick blankets, sighing in relief at the warmth.

“I know you were never one for the cold but isn’t this a little overdramatic?” Goro questioned as he grabbed gauze from his bag. Akira only hummed and dug himself in a little farther. “Although with the new weaknesses… Akira are you weak to Ice?”

“Huh?” He yawned right after, blinking slowly up at his lover. Goro sighed through his nose as he wrapped the gauze around the cut on his face.

“Ah nevermind. I guess we’ll have to discuss it tomorrow then.” He took some spare scissors and cut the end, tucking into the layers. Akira pouted and began to open his mouth in protest, “You’re tired Akira, and I don’t think your insomnia returning during the apocalypse would be a good thing.” Goro walked over to the bed, and pet Akira’s head, scratching behind the ears, eliciting a small hum from him.

Goro smiled softly, “I missed this…” 

“Me too...” Quickly enough, the brunette heard quiet snores from the other, and Goro slid under the covers as well. He was almost surprised to find the weight on the other side of the bed. He slipped an arm forward, finding it wrapped around Akira’s waist. 

“Has it really been that long?” Goro held Akira closer, placing his other hand into his hair, and tried to hold back his tears. He fell asleep with a smile.


End file.
